Search

This morning, in the early hours, I walked around and through the flowers–again overwhelmed by volunteers–the plants that keep giving and giving. Reappearing each year through no effort of my own. From perennials to the self-seeding annuals– zinnias, marigolds, purple basil, cleome and others.

I was thinking “you know, they don’t have to do this,” this constant yearly rebirthing of beauty. They don’t have to keep giving–making the world a more welcoming place. But they do. And their will to just stand, to keep on keeping on humbles me. The cleome seed, small as a drop of pepper, that landed in a crack on the pavement?–what were the odds that it could germinate and push through the hard non-yielding environment that surrounded it?

But it did and I, who am often prone to silently mourning the condition of the world, sensed a small glimmer of hope witnessing this true grit. Truly humbled by this manifestation of perserverance.

As this hickory, unconcerned that its back is up against a wall stands steadfast in its will to “be.” To prevail. Manifesting a life force that cannot be denied.

I must hold on to this truism–this sense of both hope and perseverance. Must wrap my arms around its trunk and daily reaffirm that the morass of our culture–of the world’s culture–is not permanent. Will fall by the wayside long before nature’s steadfastness diminishes.

5 Responses to “Perseverance”

I stitched these words last year from Helen Garner “On Darkness” 2015 p152 “Everywhere I Look” 2016
“On the lip of an abyss roaring with dark wind stood a tiny bush that bore an intensely red flower. The bush grew right on the very edge of nothingness, and yet somehow its roots were holding. It had a grip that no wind could disturb: it thrived there, all on its own, this modest little plant, and while the abyss yawned beside it, it went on bravely, doggedly flowering.”
and another gem from Helen Garner “Notes from a Brief Friendship” 2011 p46 “Everywhere I Look” 2016
“Sometimes it seems to me that, in the end, the only thing people have got going for them is imagination. At times of great darkness, everything around us becomes symbolic, poetic, archetypal.
Perhaps this is what dreaming, and art, are for.”

I wrote a very similar mid-summer reflection — being outside and looking at the resilient and beautiful world IS consolation, IS healing, IS there for us (climate change or no). I like how you put it all — particularly at the end — about wrapping your arms around the natural world’s message…